


if you like me very very very much (then tell me)

by Anonymous



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Senpai Notice Me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9129070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: in which seokmin didn't realise that attending an all-boys boarding school would include so much struggles. (everyone trying to interfere with his love lifedefinitelydoesn't help. yes mingyu, he's looking atyou)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triggerswaggiehavoc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerswaggiehavoc/gifts).



> dear my poor poor recipient, i apologise for having you on the receiving end of this mess of a fic (THAT ISN'T QUITE FINISHED) that was definitely not worth the wait omG. i have nothing to say in my defence bc really my time management skills are terrible and that's on me.
> 
> also huge s/o to the super patient mods running the exchange. ya'll are the real MVPs I swear. and huge thanks to my senpai, who was the biggest help to me in the initial stages of planning this fic, and continued to hold my hand and lend me encouragement even tho I'm a trash of a kouhai.
> 
> most of this was largely inspired by the beautiful hori/kashima ship from gekkan shoujo nozaki-kun (10/10 do recommend. watch it pls u will not regret) though i didn't do it enough justice so please don't have high expectations.
> 
> okay this is getting really long, but i just want to note that this is tagged as 'crack' because a) i'm a mess and b) halfway through writing this i realised i was using grammar jokes and the likes— which would mean they're speaking english. but then they're also using korean honorifics. and instead of fixing it like the adult i'm supposed to be i cried and let it be. so yeah. a real mess. don't say i didn't warn you.

"Hey Seokmin?" Mingyu abruptly asks, slightly hesitant. "We're friends right?"

In response, Seokmin grins reassuringly. "Of course."

"Then why are you being such a dick?" Mingyu hisses, bitterly drawing a new pile of Uno cards into his hands. At the same time as Seokmin puts down a "Draw 4" card to save himself from the growing draw stack. "Colour?"

"Yellow," Seokmin calls. "And well, you're the one that's alway saying you'd take a bullet for any of us."

"I said I'd take a bullet, not a stab to the back," Mingyu sulks. His eyes turns towards Minghao pleadingly, whom sighs, and seems to fiddle with his cards for a moment before deciding to put down a yellow "Skip" card on Seokmin to avenge Mingyu.

Seokmin glares at them both. "Now we have another traitor _and_ a hypocrite amongst our midsts."

"Please reserve your complaints for after the match," Minghao says, growing bored of this game by the bitter minute. "Now make your move."

Mingyu smirks menacingly at Seokmin, and the other boy breaks into a shiver of sweat in fear for what is to come. "Gladly." He throws down a double combo of "Reverse" and "Skip" and laughs gleefully at Seokmin's face, a mixture of helplessness and irritation that satisfied Mingyu's very soul. There's truly nothing sweeter than vengeance.

"This is _war_ ," Seokmin growls, like it hasn't already been a battlefield for the past half hour. Mingyu maintains his smug disposition in the meanwhile. Poor Seokmin doesn't even realise that he already has an arsenal prepared for an onslaught.

"Don't start something you can't fini—" 

" _Uno_ ," says Minghao, nonchalantly _and_ swiftly putting down his next card before Mingyu and Seokmin can even react.

The two boy freezes, looking over at their friend in disbelief, and surely enough the other boy is only holding one flimsy card left inbetween his fingers. Seokmin and Mingyu both looks down at their own cards and sweats. They'll _never_ beat Minghao at this rate.

"Can we just get pizza and call it a day?" Minghao suddenly suggests, "I'm tired."

Seokmin and Mingyu stares at each other for a moment and starts weighting their options. Which is fairly obvious — save whatever dignity they have left and call it quits or start a war of friendship that'll probably last 700 manga chapters long.

"Pizza it is." The both of them says in agreement, readily dropping the cards from their palms.

As Seokmin gathers up the pile to neatly stack them back into the box, there's a little inkling that this was, in fact, part of Minghao's plan. He swears there's something much more calculating and thoughtful behind that mask of nihilism. Truthfully speaking, Minghao is still of somewhat of an enigma even after a month of living together. Everyone else seems to generally agree that he's a strange addition to Seokmin's dynamic with Mingyu.

That said, the boy's presence is sorely appreciated, because as much as Seokmin and Mingyu likes to play pretend rebels against social order and do some rule-breaking to fit in with boys their age, Minghao was the actual free spirit. Most importantly, he had the connections that Seokmin lacks and is seemingly void of the nagging conscience that Mingyu has.

In other words — Minghao's the only one who has the gall to order outside food _past_ curfew _and_ eat it. The goody two shoes within Mingyu is practically _shivering_. Fortunately, Mingyu is best friends with Seokmin, which means he's more morally obligated to follow the latter's ideas than his own conscience.

 

("Isn't the pact of friendship beautiful?" says Seokmin.

Mingyu looks displeased. "This _isn't_ friendship. It's _peer pressure_ you asshole.")

 

They end up having the pizza anyways. To this day, Minghao still refuses to dish out his supply line, but whatever; Seokmin figures if he puts in enough effort, he could probably find out. Which sounds like his staple excuse for when he can't do something but no _really_ , he probably could.

"Sure, whatever you say. Now hurry up and finish your damn pizza," Mingyu frowns, eyes darting to the door nervously as he hesitantly chews on his piece. "If the dorm monitor catches us again, we're _finished_."

"Technically he only  _almost_ caught us," Seokmin corrects him. "So all is still good and well."

"I don't want to hear that from a guy that's on their watchlist." And before Seokmin can open his mouth to make his defence, Mingyu hushes him. "You even have detention. Tomorrow. _Again_."

"Pfft," Seokmin brushes him off. "Semantics."

"You keep using that word but I don't think you know what it means."

"Right?" Minghao chimes in agreement, resulting in a paired snicker with Mingyu. "Just look at his English results."

Assholes, the both of them, Seokmin thinks. It's not his fault that his talents doesn't bloom in certain areas. Some lands are just too dry and dead to even nurture... certain plants okay? (He'll work on this metaphor, some day.)

"Anyways," he clears his throat, "while we're on the topic of tomorrow. Would any of you like to—"

"Nope," Mingyu says without hesitation.

"Can't make it," Minghao adds. Neither of them even cares enough to show any fake remorse. At this point, Seokmin thinks he need to find new friends.

"Your support is truly overwhelming guys."

"I _actually_ can't help. Club activities and all that you know?" Minghao explains, almost like he had a sentiment of regret. But then he smiles at Seokmin all shamelessly and offers a consolation slice of pizza. "Good luck mopping up the entire gymnasium by yourself though."

Seokmin grumbles, looking at Mingyu's equally patronising grin. He is _so_ going to find new friends.

(But for now he'll accept that slice, only out of the goodness in his heart.)

 

 

 

While Mingyu may have been right about Seokmin's less than stellar academic reputation. He swears that his constant getting-penalised-for-misdemeanours streak isn't entirely his fault, partly perhaps. Or just half. (Mingyu being the worst partner-in-crime on Earth doesn't help.) But either way, the other half is definitely their dorm monitor who has it out for Seokmin ever since he came this school.

"Now if you spent half your time paying attention to the rules as you do daydreaming. Maybe we wouldn't be in this predicament again and again."

Seokmin sighs. "Why do you hate me so much Doyoon?"

Doyoon, said dorm monitor and Seokmin's childhood-friend-turned-satan, merely smiles innocently at him. "Don't say that. You know how much I'm fond of you Seokmin-ah. Besides, your mother told me to take 'extra' care of you." He then hands a wringed mop to the younger boy. "So that's _exactly_ what I'm doing."

"Basically... you two have been conspiring against me since day one," Seokmin surmises, moping as he's forced to take the, well... mop, into his hands.

"Feel free to define our love for you as you wish," Doyoon shrugs. "Oh, don't make  _that_ face. You know that doesn't work on me anymore."

Seokmin grows even sulkier at that. "This is why you're no longer my favourite hyung," he says, but the guilt-trip doesn't even falter Doyoon's smile at all. It's actually quite unnerving.

"Stop pulling words out of your ass, Seokmin." Doyoon crosses his arms, feet tapping into an impatient rhythm that contrasts with the calm on his face. "We both know that Jeonghan has always been your favourite. Now start cleaning or I'll call your mother."

"Yes sir..." Seokmin mumbles in acquiescence, and started to mop the area in his vicinity. 

"I'll send someone to check up on you periodically, so don't even think of slacking off!" Doyoon warns him cheerfully before waving goodbye, leaving him to his own device so the older can tend to his other responsibilities. Seokmin only wishes that he isn't one of them, but alas.

 

 

 

As always, true to his words, Doyoon _did_ send someone to come inspect Seokmin's progress every now and then. It's amazing how he still manages to make Seokmin suffer in his absence.

"Less whining, more wiping," Mingyu says, forcefully hustling the other boy with his incessant clapping. Seokmin shoots him daggers out of spite. Why did Doyoon have to send _him_ out of everybody?

"Because some of us have actual credibility? Because Doyoon actually trusts me to do something?" Mingyu tuts at him. "Isn't the pact of friendship _beautiful_ , Seokmin-ah?"

"Fuck you," Seokmin growls at him, restraints be damned. "Aren't you on canteen duty today?"

"No, but I am tomorrow. Which is precisely why you might want to watch your language," Mingyu squints at him in a meager attempt at intimidation. "Would be a shame if you 'somehow' died of food poisoning."

Normally Seokmin would call him out on his bullshit because Mingyu really is a puppy that can't bite. Except that has happened once (by accident... sort of) and Seokmin has better things to do than to motivate Mingyu to weaponise his culinary skills (by accident). Again.

"Speaking of food, I'm getting some grub. You want anything?"

" _Yes_ ," Seokmin replies without hesitation. "Get me the usual."

"Sure," Mingyu says, walking towards Seokmin and not the door, a palm outstretched towards the other boy. "What? Did you think that  _I_ was gonna pay for your share? Three servings of honey bread is expensive!"

"You get discounts anyways," Seokmin whines.

"Not as much as you imagine," Mingyu pouts, wriggling his fingers. "C'mon."

Seokmin grumbles, and then begrudgingly takes out his wallet. His grip stays strong for a moment, only reluctantly relinquishing it over to Mingyu's awaiting palm once he realises the other boy isn't amused with his antics. 

"Make it quick! I'm starving!" Seokmin yells after a gleeful Mingyu running out of the gymnasium.

As soon as he was sure that Mingyu was out of earshot, the boy resumes his paused playlist, continuing his little guerilla concert inside the gym (previously rudely interrupted by a pitchy Mingyu who tried to join in). This is probably the only upside to getting singled out for detention: There's barely anyone within the vicinity to notice him at all.

Barely a moment later, he hears footsteps, probably Mingyu's (that was _fast_ ), but at this point he's too engrossed in the ensuing build up of the current ballad to care. The noraebang soul within him has been itching to be released, _damn it._

And once the climax hits, he passionately belts the last note, voice echoing throughout the room. The sound that he hears resonating back is satisfactory enough to encourage him to continue. All that's left is for Mingyu to try and throw him off as usual (and he still has enough breath to overpower that little shit, so bring it).

"Hey, first year!" someone yells instead, and Seokmin ceases mid-note and jumps in surprise. His impromptu mic-stand-mop slips from his hands and lands with a resounding thud, making him flinch before looking back to see a boy that was definitely _not_ Mingyu standing near the entrance. Oh god, was this one of Doyoon's henchmen? He is so fu—

"Please don't tell Doyoon," he immediately pleads. "I'm not slacking off I _swear_."

"Come here! I wanna talk!"

Seokmin looks at the boy warily, feet frozen in place. He may or may not be heavily considering the option of running out the other door or sprinting towards the basketball hoop and dunking his head in it. Basically anything that doesn't involve the risk of receiving a death sentence from Doyoon himself.

"I said I just wanna talk, kid!" the boy yells at him again, heaving a frustrated sigh. " _First years_. Such a pain."

Eventually, Seokmin collected the courage to drag himself over. And now that he's closer, he realises the boy is... a lot more shorter up close. He also looks a lot less intimidating now that Seokmin had calmed down too. If anything, now he feels a strange urge to envelope the boy into his arms. Sort of like the swell of impulsiveness a kid gets when he sees a squishy, huggable toy.

"Ahem...." he coughs for composure. "So who are you?" 

"That doesn't matter. Come with me for a sec," the boy says, suddenly grabbing Seokmin's hand and pulls him along. Everything's happening at once that Seokmin has to organise his thoughts in order. Firstly, holy shit how is someone so small so strong. Secondly, is he being apprehended to Doyoon right now? Will he live? Thirdly, this is all Mingyu's fault, who takes this long buying bread and leaves their friend to be kidnapped. #KimMingyuCancelled.

Once Seokmin snapped out of his trance, they were already out of the gymnasium block. The other boy (whom Seokmin is now calling Mr. Sneakers because _damn_. Those _shoes_. Are they fluorescent?!) had long released his hand and yet Seokmin was still trudging behind. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," is the only response he gets from Mr. Sneakers and Seokmin frowns. What's with the ambiguity, he thinks. Seokmin considers ditching, but he'd already gone too far at this point and running back would only get him ratted out by Mingyu, who'd definitely assumed he'd ran away from duty by now.

 

("Like, where is the trust?" Seokmin sighs.

"I don't know? It ran out the door maybe," Mingyu shrugs. "Just like _someone_  all those other times?"

Seokmin's throat catches a lump of guilt. "...Fair enough," he says, and they leave it at that.)

 

As they walk down the corridors, Seokmin catches the sign that says: "Performance Hall". It then registered that he'd never been to this part of school. For all Seokmin knows, this could be some recluse hideout for all the delinquents here. He is so fu—

"Hey first year," Mr. Sneakers calls, looking back at him as they enter through the side door of the stage. "You might want to close your ears for a moment."

Seokmin blinks, confused at the warning. "What—"

"HYUNG!" someone screams through a mic suddenly and Seokmin has to reflexively cover his ears in terror. He spots a boy running towards them wildly with a microphone in hand. "WHERE—" Mr. Mic pauses and pulls the mic away from his lips when they flinched again at his volume. "Where have you been?! ...And who's this?"

"Seungkwan. I think I found our lead."

Mr. Mic, apparently called Seungkwan, then eyes Seokmin up and down suspiciously when the latter responds with an awkward wave. "Hyung, I know you've been feeling pressured cause we still haven't casted a lead yet," Seungkwan frowns, arms crossed as he shakes his head with disapproval. "But you can't just drag any random nobody in here, there's a process to this—"

"Seokmin?" a familiar voice cuts in, and Seokmin perks up at his own name. "What are you doing here?"

"You know him?" Seungkwan and Mr. Sneakers looks at Jeonghan. Seokmin, meanwhile, breathes in relief; he feels so much more at ease with a familiar face.

"Yeah, he's the guy I was telling you about," Jeonghan explains, smiling fondly at Seokmin. "So have you finally agreed to come join us?"

With Jeonghan's presence and the reminder of an old offer, Seokmin finally realises what was happening. This must be that singing club or something that Jeonghan's been nagging for him to join since the start of this year. But Seokmin keeps turning him down because he "can't promise to commit". Which is only half of the truth but well, no one has to know.

"But hyung, he wants to put _this_ guy as the lead," Seungkwan whispers. Surely he's not the only one that sees this absurdity. " _Without_ an audition."

"He's good," Jeonghan hums, much to the other boy's dismay, "I can confirm that."

Seungkwan takes a deep breath and began massaging his own temples. "Okay well," he pauses, whipping out his phone, "we should at _least_ ask for Jisoo's opinion on this."

His last ditched attempt however, failed, as when prompted with the same proposition, this 'Jisoo' replied with: "Well if Jeonghanie vouches for him, then I also don't mind (~￣▽￣)~" 

Mr. Sneakers and Jeonghan seems pleased at that response, while Seungkwan had no other choice but to bow down to democracy. Which doesn't mean that he can't throw disapproving looks towards Seokmin whenever he gets the chance. ("Nepotism," he mumbles). Seokmin instead, wonders when exactly can he get a say about this. 

"But... how can you expect me to just 'join'?"

At that, Jeonghan claps his hands in remembrance. "Oh _right_. The application form. We'll get it filled out for you, don't worry about it."

Seokmin shakes his head, "that's not what I—"

"Seungkwan, how about you go show the newbie around," says Mr. Sneakers, clapping the younger boy on the shoulders.

"But—" Seokmin tries again to no avail.

"Follow me please," Seungkwan waves at him. It is at this point that Seokmin gives up. He still doesn't know how he got himself into this but no one is letting him back out of it any time soon it seems.

Seungkwan then leads him down the side steps, and without the curtains blocking, Seokmin now sees the hall in full view, littered with organised and disorganised groups of other students everywhere. Some appears to be practicing steps of sort, others are fiddling and moving around with what appears to be props. It's kind of amazing how they're managing to work with all these chaos.

"Over here Seungkwan!"

Seokmin scans the crowd, noticing a taller boy from the props corner waving in their direction. Seungkwan seems to give him a nod of acknowledgement before walking Seokmin over.

"This is Seungcheol," Seungkwan introduces, "president of the film and photography club." To which Seungcheol's face seems to lit up with pride, smiling reassuringly at Seokmin.

"Also known as the F.A.P Club!" someone yells from afar and Seungcheol's smile immediately drops into a look of alarm.

"That is  _not_ true. Don't listen to him," he quickly defends to Seokmin, flustered. " _No one_ calls us that."

"I do!" the same voice shouts again and this time Seokmin can't hold back a snicker. "Your name is _way_ too long."

Seungcheol sighs in defeat, "why can't he slander his own club?"

"He  _does,_ " another disgruntled voice says. " _All_ the time." Huh, it actually sounds grumpily familiar. 

" _Anyways_ ," Seungkwan looks back at Seokmin. "They're mostly helping out with the backstage production and promotion this time around."

"So what's happening here? A tour for the new guy?" someone approaches them, throwing an arm around Seungkwan much to the boy's dismay. Seokmin recognises his voice as the funny one from earlier.

Seungkwan begrudgingly pushes the arm around his shoulder off, and then gestures a hand towards the older boy next to him. "This is Soonyoung, president of the dance club. They're in charge of the choreography, and uh, lighting. For some reason."

"Ouch. If you put it like that, we don't sound very reliable," Soonyoung pouts.

"The only person who knows how to handle the control monitor is _Jun_ ," Seungkwan points out. "That already speaks _volumes_ on your reliability."

"Whatever," Soonyoung waves him off, and turns towards Seokmin with a winning eyesmile. "Well nice to meet you! And don't worry! On my honor as club president, we'll make you guys shine like _woah—_ "

"Hyung," says a boy, tugging at Soonyoung's hands. "Please stop slacking off, we need to finish the routine for this scene  _by today_."

"Just give me a minute Chan-kun."

Seokmin blinks at the suffix. "Kun?"

"Right. I forgot to mention," Seungkwan deadpans. "He's also _a raging weeaboo_."

"Don't shit on me just cause ya'll can't appreciate a good culture," Soonyoung says defensively. Then he throws his hand up into a pose. "Naega Hosh!"

"..."

"It's really awkward if none of you responds..."

 _'THEN DON'T SAY IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!'_ Seungkwan internally screams. "Please just go back to whatever you were doing. _Please_."

"Let's go!" says Chan, hurriedly towing along a reluctant Soonyoung. Seokmin doesn't miss the subtle thumbs up that Chan gives to Seungkwan, whose only response is a pained smile and a breath of relief once Soonyoung was far enough for peace.

"Right, well that's my cue as well," Seungcheol says, a hand reaching towards Seokmin. "It was nice meeting you, uh...?"

"Seokmin," the boy answers, taking Seungcheol's hand (holy shit, it's so _soft_ ) and receives an expectedly firm shake in response. This guy is cool. Seokmin likes him.  

"Well," Seungkwan says as Seungcheol walks off, "including us and those two. That's three clubs working on the school's year end production this time."

"This time?" Seokmin notes.

"It's a biennial thing," Seungkwan explains, eyes narrowing incredulously at Seokmin. "Exactly _how_ much do you know about this musical?"

"You guys are doing _a musical?!_ "

Seungkwan doesn't bother to respond to that at all. Instead he begins silently mumbling what appears to be a calming mantra as he rubs his own temples again. Seokmin kind of pities him. He doesn't think he'd ever seen anyone this stressed. (And looking at it now, it seems like he was the only one that was stressed.)

"This idiot is just hopeless like that," Minghao says out of nowhere. "Don't mind him, Seungkwan."

"Which hole did you suddenly crawl out of?" Seokmin frowns, blinking around. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same Seok," the other boy quips. "I don't recall your lazy ass joining any clubs this year."

"Right?" Seokmin sighs dejectedly. "Yet here I am. Wait— if you're here then—"

" _Yes_ ," Minghao sighs with the same dejection. Which prompts Seokmin to put a hand on his shoulder empathetically. "This is _the_  'club activity' I was talking about." He and Seokmin both heaves another heavy sigh in unison. 

"...Hate to break your uh, bonding moment," Seungkwan interjects, looking at them warily. "But we still have a tour to finish."

"About that," Minghao says. "Your president said he wanted to see you two."

"Oh good. Maybe he _finally_ came to his senses," Seungkwan mutters not-so-under-his-breath, and then storms off to the other side of the room. Seokmin stills for a moment, looking at Minghao, who prompts him off with a nod of his chin. 

"Fine fine, I'm going," Seokmin says, hesitantly following after the other boy's trail.

When he enters through the door that Seungkwan went through, there's the people he expected to see: Jeonghan, Mr. Sneakers and Seungkwan. And then, there's people he didn't expect to see: some dude with a guitar and Doyoon.

Wait what?! "Doyoon?!"

"Happy to see you again Seokmin-ah," the boy smiles. "Though I can't exactly say I'm happy about losing my best gym mopper."

"What is happening?" Seokmin questions. "What do you mean by that?"

"Listen up kid," Mr. Sneakers says, "I've heard enough about your... track records from Doyoon just now. And we're willing to make you an offer."

"An offer?" 

"Yes," Doyoon affirms. "Lee Seokmin doesn't behave without some sort of...  _incentive,_ after all."

By now, the warning bells in Seokmin's head are already screaming in terror. Seokmin _himself_ wants to scream in terror. Whatever they had planned, he initially wanted no part in it. But now that _Doyoon_ is involved, salvation is no longer possible. He is so fu—

"Hey kid," Mr. Sneaker snaps him out of his daze. "You still listening?"

"What do you want from me?" Seokmin says, forehead visibly sweating.

"Nothing much. If you promise to dedicate your time and energy towards something healthy like, say, being a productive member of _this_ club," Doyoon proposes, "I'll erase your pending list of detentions for the rest of this year. Otherwise..."

"Okay."

"What?! That's it? You're not even going to protest for your rights?" Seungkwan gawks.

'You _can't_ protest against blackmail' Seokmin wanted to say but with Doyoon here... "No no." Seokmin forces a weak laugh. "I'll gladly... be a member... of this club." 

"Well, that was easier than expected," Mr. Sneakers admits, throwing an appreciative look at Doyoon, "thanks for the help."

Seokmin tries to maintain his smile as he internally cries. "Help"? This was downright extortion! How can someone so cute be so conniving? He'll probably have to rethink his impression of Mr. Sneakers. 

"No problem," Doyoon assures, and prepares to make his leave. "Feel free to contact me if there are any..." he pauses, stopping by the door to turn back and smile at Seokmin one last time, " _difficulties_." 

Seokmin makes an audible squeak as a shiver runs down his spine, and Mr. Sneakers laughs, "I think we'll be fine."

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Jeonghan jokes, patting Seokmin's back soothingly after Doyoon leaves.

" _Worse_. I somehow watched the devil left with my life intact," Seokmin says, "and I don't know whether to be thankful or not."

"We  _did_ just get you out of a year's worth of detention," the guy with the guitar says, "so some gratitude would be nice. I'm Jisoo, by the way."

"Right..." Seokmin drawls, and then passes his gaze to Mr. Sneakers. " _You_ haven't told me your name, you know."

"Huh, I thought I did. Or at least someone would've told you by now," Mr. Sneakers scratches his head in confusion and looks at Seungkwan, whom just shrugs.

"It never came up."

"Well then, I'm the theaters club's president and the director of this musical," Mr. Sneakers, states as a matter of factly, smiling brightly at Seokmin. For a moment, that strange urge to squish him resurfaces within Seokmin. "The name's Lee Jihoon. And on behalf of everyone else..."

"Welcome aboard, Lee Seokmin."


	2. Chapter 2

Musicals are _hard,_ Seokmin could predict that for himself. But nobody told him that they're _this_ hard. Singing aside, he has to act, he has to dance, he has to—

"Sing that line again with a little more emotion," Jihoon commands, "I'm not feeling your conviction yet, Prince Seokmin."

Seokmin sighs, taking another look at the script before turning back up to Jeonghan, from where he's leaning on the prop balcony. There's something different about singing in the open with everyone watching and to someone that's not... well, Jihoon. Which is undoubtedly strange because Seokmin should be perfectly comfortable with Jeonghan out of all people.

Nevertheless, the boy takes another shaky breath, and then restarts his lines. " _You say, you_ —"

"Cut!" Jihoon shouts, shaking his head at Seokmin and then walking over on stage himself. "Why aren't you doing it like we practiced?" The older asks him, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," Seokmin says, unable to look at Jihoon. He doesn't know _why_ he's like this, especially when Jihoon's been personally taking the time to practice with Seokmin for the past month. He'd been harsh, he'd been gentle, and most importantly, he has _faith_ in Seokmin like no else does. So Seokmin can't bear to look at him in the face when he knows he's disappointing everyone. Especially Jihoon.

"You're doing that thing again," the president frowns, reaching up to flick a finger against Seokmin's forehead. "Look at me, Seokmin."

"Yes, sunbae," Seokmin pouts, a hand rubbing his forehead as he finally dares to look into Jihoon's eyes. He's a little surprised when he doesn't find any disappointment in them at all.

"Sing it one more time," Jihoon urges, taking Seokmin's hands into his, "this time to _me_." _Just like we practiced_.

Seokmin then remembers to breathe. It's amazing how Jihoon's gaze alone can frighten him nervous at times or induce a strange calming effect during others. There's a gentle squeeze on his hands that prompts him to start and Seokmin doesn't hesitate this time.

" _I love you. I'm always waiting for you like this,_ " Seokmin sings, and pulls a hand towards his chest. He tightens his grip on Jihoon's hand and think of how the prince doesn't want to let go. How  _he_ doesn't want to let go. " _Tell me to just... stay_..."

For a fraction of a second, it felt like there was no one else but them in the world. Until someone (probably Seungkwan) coughs loudly to deliberately to break them out of their trance. Jihoon suddenly remembers they're in a room full of people, staring at and watching their every move.

"That... was the next verse but yeah," Jihoon hardens his voice, quickly letting go of Seokmin's hands much to the younger's disappointment. "Sing it just like that. Got it?"

"I will," Seokmin nods obediently, satisfied enough to be grinning again, teeth flashing much too brightly. "Thanks, sunbae."

Jihoon doesn't reply to that, prompting to quickly return to his seat instead and tries not to think about the heartfelt look that was on Seokmin's face. And his hands. And how his heartbeat felt against Jihoon's touch. And— _stop_. _Focus_. He needs to focus. He's the president and the director, _damn it._ None of this is allowed to break his composure.

That aside, he has to resist the urge not to punch Soonyoung and Junhui for the sly looks that they keep throwing his way. After all, somebody have to show professionalism — at least until club hour ends. 

"And action!"

 

 

 

"So how's practice?" Mingyu asks as soon as they get out of class. There's something strange about his sudden interest in the theaters club's activities lately, Seokmin thinks. But he dismisses the notion, even as something at the back of his head is squinting with suspicion.

"Fine, as usual," he replies succinctly. Which really, isn't enough of an answer for Mingyu, but that's all the detail Seokmin is willing to dish.

"What he means to say is, why do you care?" Minghao raises an eyebrow at Mingyu, who makes a face, as if saying ' _Do you even need to ask_ '. They seriously need to stop with this whole communicating with each other through strange looks thing as if Seokmin isn't literally right beside them. 

"Of _course_ I care!" Mingyu proclaims, blinking innocently at Seokmin. "What kind of a good friend would I be if I don't at least take some interest in the endeavours of my two favourite people at this school?"

Minghao snorts at that statement and Seokmin stops walking. Scratch that, Seokmin thinks. He is being _100%_ suspicious. "What do you want Mingyu?"

"Nothing!" Mingyu refutes him, voice going squeaky, which only makes him comes off extra shady. " _Nothing_." He coughs, this time speaking unusually deep. "What time is your practice again?"

"No no no," Seokmin frowns at him. " _You_ can't come with us," he says, nudging Minghao's arm for reinforcement, but the latter shrugs his shoulders in feigned neutrality. Even he's not dumb enough to take part in this. Seokmin instead, throws him a betrayed look in response.

"Why not?!" Mingyu says, lips jutting into a pout. What wrongs has he committed to be given the Mean Girls™ singling out treatment?

"You _know_ why."

Mingyu blinks, looking over to Minghao cluelessly. The other boy sighs and silently mouths out the words: 'you', 'props' and 'angry little man'. And _oh_. Right. That happened. 

"It was _one_ time."

"One time too many," Seokmin shakes his head, crossing his arms in resolute refusal. "I'm not risking having Jihoon sunbae-nim getting mad at me again."

"Isn't he always mad at you anyways?" Minghao notes.

Seokmin waves him off. "Yeah but. It's okay as long as _I'm_ the one responsible."

Minghao silently stares at the other boy for a moment. He ponders whether or not he should point out Seokmin's clearly misguided if not twisted way of getting his crush's attention, but decides against it. He needs some amusement to get through the rest of this week anyways. Mingyu, on the hand, throws his hands in the air, absolutely exasperated.

"That doesn't even make sense!" the boy whines. A fair point, Minghao thinks. But Mingyu's complaints falls on deaf ears anyways. And to think that _this_ is what he gets for trying to be a good wingman. Friendship is _a lie_.

"I'll see you at dinner!" Seokmin smiles sheepishly, and then promptly speeds off.

"You _do_ realise that he might poison our food later right?" Minghao warns as they're power walking away from a yelling Mingyu shouting of their betrayal. That boy can and _will_ hold a grudge.

"I know," Seokmin grins. "But it's fine. He'll probably smack the spoons from our hands before it even touches our mouths and give us a safe plate out of guilt," he predicts in strangely specific detail. Minghao doesn't even want to ask if Seokmin has tested Mingyu's conscience before but either way they'll both keep their lives intact by tonight it seems.

 

 

 

"For the last time Junhui," Seungkwan sighs. "Just because you _can_ , technically, organise the lights into a 'disco mode'. Doesn't mean that you _should_."

"I'm just saying." Junhui shrugs, putting down his milkshake. "It'll make for a hell of a finale."

" _No_ ," Seungkwan says firmly. "And can you not eat and drink inside this room? All of these equipments are expensive!" Seungkwan chides, growing more exasperated by the minute. "Take off those sunglasses too— christ this is why you always turn the lights up way too bright."

"Huh," Junhui mumbles in reflection, lifting the sunglasses slightly above his eyes for a moment. "Never thought about that."

"Doesn't your club president say _anything_?"

Junhui hums thoughtfully, and then shakes his head. "No, not really?" 

"I need to speak to Soonyoung," Seungkwan mutters, massaging his temples again. This whole production is making him age faster than he has ever been. And as if on cue, he catches sight of another one of his headaches entering the hall from the window. Jihoon's little protégé himself, who barely made it on time. Again.

 

"Sorry," Seokmin apologises. "We got held up by Jeonghan's fanboys."

"I can personally testify to that," Minghao raises his hand, audibly panting. The drive and desperation of teenage boys is truly amazing. Well that, or the sheer power of Jeonghan's popularity as a whole (and in an all-boys school no less, christ. Beauty truly knows no gender).

"It's fine," Seungcheol smiles comfortingly, and then directs Seokmin backstage. "Jihoon's waiting for you, so go quickly."

Seokmin looks at him appreciatively before running off. Minghao, meanwhile, is more concerned with their own problems. 

"Have you seen my slacker president?" the boy asks. "None of us can find him. Even Chan."

"Can't say I have," Seungcheol shakes his head, laughing lightly. "There's a runaway from my side as well."

Suddenly, a sharp static sound cuts through the entire hall. Instigating a moment of confusion amongst the crowd before the speakers instantaneously blared to life.

_"I told you. I TOLD you not drink in here and LOOK!"_

_"Relax. A little spill doesn't hurt nobody, it just needs a little wipe."_

_"The only one that's gonna be wiping is ME. Wiping the floor with YOU— wait are the speakers on?"_

_"Yeah... I think it is."_ a pause _. "Hi everyone!"_

 _"Don't say hi! FIX IT!"_ Seungkwan's voice resonates through the room. " _I am so sorry for the disturbance. We'll fi—_ "

 

"There!" Junhui smiles as he found the off controls, and then eases back into his chair. "Better?"

"No, not really," Seungkwan says grimly, immediately taking out his phone and proceeds to head out the door. "Hyung? I can't do this. Send someone else. _Anyone else_."

"Jeonghanie would be nice!" Junhui yells after him, sunglasses back on his face as he spins around in his chair. 

 

"That was Seungkwan," Jihoon says, putting his phone back into his pocket. "Looks like he couldn't handle Junhui after all."

"Where's Soonyoung?" Jeonghan asks the million dollar question. "Not that he can keep himself in check, let alone his members. But still."

"Why don't you go?"

"I'd rather _not_. You should know Junhui has this thing where he likes to flirt relentlessly with certain people. Ergo,  _me_." Jeonghan grimaces as he recalls the several previous incidents. "Which would be just irritating if his pick up lines weren't so equally tragic."

"Sometimes I forget... well, how about you try looking for Soonyoung then?" Jihoon suggests. "I can help Seokmin with his part by myself."

Jeonghan seems to stare at him for a moment, as if pondering over something. But before Jihoon can question him, Jeonghan quickly slips on one of his cryptic smiles. " _Sure you can_ ," he says. There's something tauntingly hiding under the tone of his voice that Jihoon can't quite put a finger on. "I might take _very_  long, so have fun kids!"

"Right..." Jihoon drawls, eyeing Jeonghan cautiously as the older leaves the room.

When he turns back to Seokmin, the boy fumbles in his seat, immediately darting his eyes to the corners of the room as if he was caught staring at something (or someone) he shouldn't have. But Jihoon doesn't dwell on the thought for long, after all, it's _Seokmin_. The boy always seems like he's fixated or distracted by something.

"Have you done your warm ups?"

"Yes sunbae—"

"Stop that." Jihoon shakes his head. He'd hoped that Seokmin would've found it in himself to be more comfortable around Jihoon after all this time. But it looks like he just needs a gentle nudge as always. "Just call me hyung, Seokmin."

"Oh," Seokmin says. "Okay... hyung."

"Good." Jihoon rummages through a nearby table to find a copy of the script. At the same time, he pulls out his glasses from his pocket and puts them perched on his nose, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he flicks through the pages. The sight never fails to tingle a strange feeling inside of Seokmin, who gulps out of the sudden dryness in his throat.

"Now let's run over the second act hm? Your lines were a bit sloppy there."

"...Huh? Oh. Okay," Seokmin fumbles for the script when he realises he's caught staring again. "One moment sunbae—" he freezes mid-sentence when Jihoon squints at him (which is really more adorable than intimidating but it's an unspoken rule around here _not_ to tell Jihoon that). "—I mean hyung."

" _That's_ better." Jihoon relaxes his eyes at that, satisfied at the correction. "Now hurry, we wouldn't want to be here all day."

Seokmin laughs in agreement. _Yeah_. Who in their right mind would _ever_ want to stay here all day?

(He does. If it's with Jihoon, _then you goddamn bet he does_.)

 

 

 

Honestly speaking when Seokmin agreed to join the theatres club, he thought it'd be just like those other bullshit extracurricular clubs the school just have for the sake of maintaining their 'diversified' image. Sure, he'd probably have to devote some of his after hours to activities and whatnot. But hey, he could live with it.

What actually happened: It has taken over his life. Literally and figuratively.

Class time aside, Seokmin spends all of his waking hours practicing, singing, learning dance steps, _remembering_ dance steps; don't even get him started on his acting (which has marginally improved since Jihoon became his personal mentor. Now if only he can keep that standard when he's doing with everyone else, _damn it_.)

Not to mention, all the countless practice and repetitive routine of doing the same songs over and over again has pretty much mentally conditioned him to randomly break out singing— or dancing at every possible word cues. And the worst part is: it's mostly involuntary. (Especially when he get caught spinning in the hallway or almost tripping himself sliding down the stairs.)

His entire shower setlist, for one, has been updated with all of their musical numbers. Minghao in particular isn't happy with this development because he too, can't get those goddamn songs out of his head. Mingyu, fortunately blessed, thinks the noise level is more or less the same.

 

("I mean, he can argue for his 'vocal techniques' all he wants," Mingyu says, taking out one of his earphone for a moment. Only to regret it when he hear Seokmin's wailing through the bathroom door and, immediately by reflex, shoves the buds back into his ear. "All I hear is the same old screeching."

"That's 'cause you're tone deaf!" Seokmin argues. But Mingyu had already set his in ear volume at maximum as an alternative to destroying his eardrums and Minghao had long bolted out of the room to regain some sanity.)

 

Another case example, is like, well right now: Seokmin humming idly to the tune of one of their more upbeat repertoire as he heads to the cafeteria for lunch. Occasionally, his legs jerks in the direction of the dance step that corresponds with the verse playing in his head. Okay maybe he _might_ have a problem.

"What problem?"

Seokmin jumps. Like, actually lifting both of his feet into the air and manages to complete a full 180 spin before landing much too soundly onto the ground. The stares he receives are well-deserved at this point. But that doesn't bother Seokmin as much as the person standing in front of him, who'd unfortunately witnessed the whole affair. 

"Ah," Jihoon says with an amused smile, just as the lines _'you are my angeeel'_  starts playing in Seokmin's head. " _That_ problem."

"Sun— I mean, _hyung_ ," Seokmin laughs nervously, "fancy seeing you here."

Jihoon raises a brow. "Likewise." The older boy then looks to the spaces besides Seokmin. "Where's the other two-third of your golden trio? Not accompanying you today?"

"No, well Minghao decided to... skip out. He wasn't hungry," Seokmin supplies alternatively, because he's not going to admit nor accept the fact that he basically got ditched. "And Mingyu is uh, right over there." The boy gestures toward the cafeteria counter where Mingyu can be easily spotted, courtesy of favourable height genes really.

"I see," Jihoon drawls. "Well, would you like to eat with—"

" _Yes_ ," Seokmin answers, too quick to consider how embarrassingly fast his response was and now too late to take it back. "I mean. If it's not a bother or anything."

Jihoon seems to consider a teasing response at the tip of tongue, but instead he ends up shaking his head at the younger boy. "It's just lunch, Seokmin. I'm not going force you to eat 'with emotions'."

Seokmin doesn't know how to respond to that— so he doesn't; standing awkwardly still until he notices a slip of a grin from Jihoon's lips. "Oh wait, that was a joke right? Haha."

Jihoon's smile fades before it can even form. He sighs. "Let's just go hm?"

Per Seokmin's insistence (no really, he  _didn't_ stop insisting), Jihoon ends up allowing Seokmin to place their orders altogether whilst the older took the task of finding a table. This is definitely for efficiency and convenience purposes, Seokmin claims. It totally has nothing to do with the ominous feeling he got when he entered the cafeteria with Jihoon, something that grows into dread as he approaches the counter.

"Ah, look who it is," Mingyu greets him, not at all being discrete about his blatant disregard for Seokmin's comfort. "That was your, ah... president wasn't it?" He grins. " _Nice_."

"I'm not sure what you meant by that," Seokmin frowns. "But I'm sure that I don't want to know."

"Don't mind me. Now, how can I _help_ you?"

Seokmin is mildly confused over why Mingyu was winking at him with that last sentence, but nevertheless, his warning bells are starting to tingle. "Just give me two set Cs."

"Oh. _Two_ you say?" Mingyu's grin is growing by the second. "I didn't know there was someone else at this school that matched your palate."

"It's just a coincidence." Seokmin tries to explain, but the other boy is already grinning from ear to ear, eyes gleaming menacingly. The warning bells are screaming again. "Mingyu _don't_ —"

"Two couple—" Mingyu halts, clearing his throat to make sure he's properly heard by pretty much everyone in the vicinity as Seokmin looks on, horrified. "I mean, two  _coincidental_  request for a lunch set C coming _right_ up." 

" _Why_ are you being like this?"

"You _know_ why," Mingyu says, in his perfect mock-imitation of Seokmin's voice as always. "Now move. You're holding up the line."

"I'll get you back for this," Seokmin hisses and moves to the side. Mingyu doesn't even spare him a glance as he waves the boy off dismissively.

Unfortunately, they're forced to make eye contact again when Mingyu gives Seokmin their order. There's an indignant huff from Seokmin that's directed at Mingyu as he mumbles a "thanks" under his breath (whom sticks a tongue out in response because they're both equally petty like that).

Whatever. Seokmin doesn't dwell on it for long. He's the one who gets to eat lunch with an upperclassman alone (this definitely has _nothing_ to do with it being specifically Jihoon), so who's the real winner now?

"Hey," Seungcheol greets him when Seokmin walks closer to the table, past the column that was obstructing his view of the older boy's presence next to Jihoon. "Hope you don't mind if I join you guys?"

"Nope," Seokmin smiles through gritted teeth as he takes the opposing seat. Suddenly he doesn't feel like a winner anymore. "Go right ahead."

"Why are you asking him for permission?" Jihoon says with a nonchalance that makes Seokmin deflates. "We're all friends here."

"Well," Seungcheol passes a knowing look from Jihoon to Seokmin. He's a little concerned at the kicked puppy expression Seokmin has going on right now, "just making sure I'm not... intruding."

Jihoon raises a brow. "Intruding what?" At this point, Seungcheol can practically see the imaginary puppy ears on Seokmin's head drooping down even further. But he opts not to comment — this... doesn't seem like something he should involve himself in.

So he answers with a "nothing" and resolves to start eating his lunch. Until the president notices something within his peripherals. "Actually guys. Could you excuse me for a moment?"

Jihoon gives him a single look of acknowledgement, which is about as much effort as he could muster right now, and then resumes eating his lunch. Seokmin, on the other hand, blinks curiously and watches as Seungcheol quickly gets up and makes his way towards another boy. 

"Who's he talking to?" Seokmin asks first, trying to resist the urge to inquire about the mountain of hamburgers on the boy's tray. Looks like someone is giving Mingyu and his appetite a run for their money.

Jihoon doesn't even look away from his food when he answers. "It's Wonwoo." Then he takes a bored stab at his meat. "One of my dorm-mates. He's in Seungcheol's F.A.P club as well."

"...I don't think Seungcheol would be happy to hear you use that."

"Sue me." Jihoon shrugs, putting the piece of meat in his mouth and chews it for a considerable moment. He looks at Seokmin again, and promptly swallows without guilt. "Their name is _way_ too long."

Seokmin snickers. "Now I see why you and Soonyoung are friends." To which Jihoon pauses, eyes narrowing at the younger boy menacingly. 

"What was that?"

"I mean..." Seokmin straightens up, wiping the smile from his face. He turns over to where Seungcheol and 'Wonwoo' were standing. "I wonder what they're talking about?"

Jihoon mercifully lets him pass, in which Seokmin immediately loosens out of relief. But now that he brought it up, he is sort of curious about their conversation now.

 

"I know I said participation in the production is optional but we could _really_  use an extra hand," Seungcheol pleads.

"You _are_ the president you know," Wonwoo raises a brow. "What makes you think I can refuse you anyways?"

"Yes but I know it's not what _you_ are interested in," Seungcheol frowns. "I don't want to force you into helping us if you're not comfortable."

"I'm not—" Wonwoo pauses, looking away. "It's nothing like that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine. _Really_. I'll show up."

"Great," Seungcheol grins. "I really appreciate this."

"Gratitude received," Wonwoo says through the mountain of hamburgers that separates them. "Now can I uh, eat my lunch?"

"Oh. Right, sorry." Seungcheol moves to the side, eyeing the pile of burgers cautiously. "Enjoy your... lunch."

"I will, thanks." Wonwoo smiles, except half of his face is still covered by the hamburgers so Seungcheol can't really tell. 

"See you after class hyung."

 

 

 

Due to the great 'Mingyu Apocalypse in May' (originally coined by Seokmin, yours truly, but now generally used and popularised by their close circles), most of their prepared props were now... unusable, for a lack of gentler descriptive terms. Hence recovery efforts now involves everyone in the production to spare the props team (and Seungcheol's back) of an overwhelming workload.

This was, naturally, met with lowkey dissatisfaction. 'Lowkey', because whoever wants to protest has to take their complaints to _Jihoon_ themselves. Seokmin, personally, doesn't the mind the change in pace. In fact, there's a strange sort of calm that comes with taking a brush into his own hands that lets him think more clearly than usual.

Minghao snorts. "Thinking requires _a brain_. Seok." 

"Can you _not_ interrupt my internal monologue?" Seokmin snaps, earning an eye roll from Minghao. He has half a mind of flicking some paint at the other boy's face, but ultimately decides against it. Because he's a mature, well-behaved young man, and not because he sort of realises that Minghao would probably double his bone count if he went through with it. 

In the other corner, Seungkwan sighs, dropping his paintbrush on a plank and gets up to stretch his tired arms. "This is literally killing me."

" _Figuratively_."

"What?" Seungkwan blinks, head turning towards Hansol's voice. Seokmin remembers him as a boy from Seungcheol's club, particularly because he seems to have an argumentative streak with Seungkwan. 

"I think you meant figuratively, right?" Hansol squints at him. "You can't use 'literally' for the sake of a figurative expression. _Genius_."

Seungkwan seemed to have a snarky reply ready to smack the condescending smirk off Hansol's face. But before they can rip it up like usual, another voice perks up. "Actually— he can."

"What?" They say in unison, looking over at Wonwoo from where he was marking the props with a brush.

"He can use 'literally' figuratively... technically," Wonwoo reaffirms, and then pause in a moment of self-induced confusion, as if to contemplate whether his statement was actually coherent. God, he needs coffee.

"But that just defeats the definition of 'literally'!" Hansol argues, but Wonwoo neither seems to be paying attention to their conversation nor more importantly, care about Hansol's sudden interest in defending the integrity of a language that's already been long butchered by colloquial slangs made up by teenagers of their age. 

"Actually, that's been updated." Wonwoo informs them. But in case anyone argues with his point: "Google it sometime."

And Hansol does. Hastily opening up the web browser on his phone as an on-looking Seungkwan tries to fawn indifference despite sharing a mutual curiosity. He ends up leaning over Hansol's shoulder anyways, a smile already gloating on his face as the screen flashes and finishes loading.

"This is a crime against the English language," Hansol says in disbelief, staring at the top result that in fact, confirms Wonwoo claims. 

Seungkwan snorts at that statement. "This, coming from the same guy who'd actively employed Y.O.L.O. as part of his vocabulary?" he reminds mockingly, eyes meeting Hansol's gaze before throwing the back of his palm over his face for further dramatisation. " _Oh_ , the _hypocrisy_."

Hansol's face immediately colours. "Well you—"

"—two can get a room. _Or_ get out of this room. I don't need slackers in here," Jihoon half-yells into the hall. Which prompts everyone to shut up in fear of getting thrown into the crossfire.

"Who pissed in his coffee this morning?" Hansol whispers, taking a few cautious glance back.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Seungkwan quips, which prompts Hansol to attempt to light him on fire with his gaze alone or something. For supposed 'mortal enemies', they do stare at each other intensely a lot.

"Well you guys were quite noisy..." Seokmin points out as he walks over with a bucket of paint. "Everyone else doesn't talk as much as you do—" he pauses, suddenly contemplating over the statement. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever heard anyone else talk besides us."

"Right?" Seungkwan nods in agreement. "Almost as if they're just background characters or something."

At that, they immediately lapse into a brief moment of silence. And ends up laughing altogether at the ridiculous notion.

"So," Hansol says, after he comes down from his fit of laughter, turning towards Seokmin. "I see that you've gotten quite chummy with Jihoon over the past few months, Seokmin-ah."

"W-What?" Seokmin stammers, caught off guard . "No, we're not like that. We're not _that_ close."

" _Really?_ " Hansol grins, inching closer. "You seem pretty comfortable around him nowadays."

"Well, yeah." Seokmin nods, and then shakes his head immediately after. "I mean— no, I still feel... awkward? Sometimes." He looks down at the ground, voice going uncharacteristically soft. "Because it feels like I'm not doing as well as he wants me to."

"Nonsense, you're his little— well. Not-so-little protégé. He absolutely _adores_ you."

"I wouldn't put it like that..."

"It's fine, really." Hansol nods, throwing an arm around Seokmin. And then he goes in for the kill. "Besides, everyone already knows that you like Jihoon."

There's a shocked gasp that comes from Seungkwan. And then the entire hall quickly dies into pin drop silence, everyone passing glances and looking over to the speechless first year and awaits his response. But Seokmin doesn't say anything, in fact, he doesn't even move. As if completely frozen in time over the shock of the relevation that was brought to his attention.

He likes Jihoon?

He _likes_ Jihoon?

_He likes Jihoon?_

"Of course I do!" Seokmin suddenly laughs, loud and boisterous. "Jihoon is an _awesome_ _mentor_."

"That's not what I—" Hansol tries to say, but Seokmin just laughs even _louder_ , drowning out Hansol's voice and any attempts further to make his point.

"Oh boy," Seungkwan grimaces. "I think you broke him."

"He's seriously scaring me," Hansol says, slightly backing away from a still cackling Seokmin.

"Why'd you have to be an ass and put it out in the open?" Seungkwan hisses. He looks on worriedly at Seokmin, whose laughing at this point truly brings a degree of concern. "Why must you have no tact?"

"I didn't think he'd be this strong in denial, _damn_."

"Lee Seokmin," Jihoon's voice rings through the stage. "Come to the practice room. _Now_."

Seokmin freezes, laughter dying in his throat and feet frozen in place. 

"R.I.P." is all Hansol says, and for once Seungkwan agrees, looking piteously at Seokmin as he drags his soulless body to heed Jihoon's summon.

   

When Seokmin enters the room, Jihoon is seated on one of the tables again. "Nice of you to finally show up, Seokmin-ssi." the president greets him, with a smile too off-puttingly polite. Seokmin doesn't like it. Furthermore:

"Hyung...?"

"Yes Seokmin-ssi?"

"Why are you calling me that?"

"Well is that not your name?"

"No, why are you _speaking_ like that?" Seokmin says, forcing out a laugh to lighten the mood. "What are you trying to pull, hyung."

"Nothing Seokmin- _ssi_ ," Jihoon replies, remaining distant but direct. "Just trying to keep professional boundaries, since I apparently, made you feel _awkward_."

 _Oh shit_. Seokmin thinks. "Hyung, I didn't mean it like that—"

"You don't need to justify yourself Seokmin- _ssi,_ " Jihoon smiles, continuing to punctuate the formal suffix with an obvious emphasis that makes Seokmin winces. "After all, it was insensitive on my part as the club's president for not being considerate of how my members feel. Right, Seokmin- _ssi_?"

 

"He hates me," Seokmin will mumble into his knees right after. "He hates me for _real_."

Minghao is seated next to him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "I'm sure he was just joking."

Seokmin turns to stare at him incredulously. "Jihoon hyung  _doesn't_ joke."

"Okay but have you thought about _why_ he might've reacted that way in the first place?"

Seokmin blinks, ponders over it for a moment, and then lowers his head in dejection. Again. All his brain can focus on is the image of Jihoon treating him like... like he's _no one._  And it's his fault, but he doesn't know how to fix it. "What do I do?" Seokmin looks at Minghao pleadingly.

"You fucked up man," Hansol shakes his head, patting the back of Seokmin's shoulder from his side. "You fucked up."

"Seungkwan was right." Seokmin snaps at him. "You really have no tact."

" _Woah!_ " Hansol widen his eyes, backing off just as Seungkwan cackles from behind, satisfied. "What is this Seokmin Savagery?"

"Okay children settle down," Jeonghan hushes, looking over them from where he was standing. "Get into a circle, the rest of you, quick!"

"Why does he always treat us like kids?" Chan scoffs, whispering to one of the other boys. "His mother hen complex needs to stop."

"It makes me sad to hear that from you, _Chan._ " Jeonghan sighs wistfully. Chan on the other hand freezes up once he realises he'd been heard. "After all, whose baby are you?"

"...Hyung, please."

" _Whose_ baby are you?"

Chan heaves a weary sigh, and mutters under his breath. "Jeonghaniehyung'sbaby..."

Jeonghan tuts at him. "I can't hear you," the older coos, smiling gleefully at the other boy.

"I'M JEONGHANIE HYUNG'S BABY!" Chan yells, and then proceed to muffle his cries of embarrassment by burying his face into his hands. He's given multiple consolation pats on the back by Hansol and Seungkwan.

"That's right," Jeonghan smiles in satisfaction, and then redirect his attention to the crowd. "Now attention _please_. We have an announcement."

Standing on stage were the three presidents, and some of the other third years. While the level of whispering and discrete chattering is still kept a minimum, Seungcheol steps forward. "As you all know, it's been quite a stressful few months," he recalls. "Not to mention we've gotten quite an influx of new members joining all of our clubs this year." 

"That is why we'll be—" Soonyoung pauses, gesturing for further applause, "drum rolls please."

Predictably enough, only a collective few (read: Seokmin and Chan) actually conceded to his request, tapping the floor enthusiastically and chanting in unison. Nevertheless, Soonyoung seems satisfied enough with just having two starry-eyed hypemen, face turning serious as he claps his hand together to cease his order. There's a bout of silence that soon follows as everyone intently awaits the announcement to come.

But nothing.

Seungcheol turns to look at Soonyoung, the stern expression from before remains frozen on his face. No one else dares to speak a word, or even move an inch. 

Still nothing.

Jihoon also turns to stare at him, long and hard. When it became apparent that someone had hit the pause button on the Soonyoung remote, he gives up and steps forward.

"We'll—"

"We'll be holding a membership training IN TWO WEEKS!" Soonyoung abruptly announces, suddenly returning to life and shocking everyone out of their daze. Jihoon himself jumps a little and snaps a glare at the other boy, unfortunately his disgruntled complaints over his weak heart is drowned out by a chorus of cheers and whistles. 

Amidst the crowd, someone puts a hand up. "Where will it be though?"

"At a five star resort in Jeju!" Soonyoung immediately answers, prompting the cheers to grow even louder, much to Jihoon's dismay.

"Was that necessary?"

"I was pausing for dramatic impact."

"Yeah well, try that again." Jihoon stares blankly at him, taking a knuckle into his palm and gives it a firm, resounding crack. "And I'll show you some _real_ impact."

"...Yes sir."

"Finally," Seungkwan says, wiping a tear. "I'll get to return to my _beautiful_ hometown."

"Just cause it's a Jeju resort, doesn't mean it'll be close to your house though?" Hansol notes.

Seungkwan waves him off. "Shut up mainlander. When you're a proud Jeju resident like me, the entire island is your home."

Before Hansol can open his mouth to throw something back, he catches Jihoon squinting at him. The "don't you mofos even dare start again" is heavily implied. So Hansol complies, and promptly closes his mouth.

Then Jihoon makes eye contact with Seokmin, whose immediate response is to wave at him with that eye crinkling, teeth baring smile he always has when he's excited. And for a fraction of a second, Jihoon was about lift his hand and wave back. But then the image breaks. And Seokmin sheepishly retracts his hand before Jihoon can do anything, as if reminded of his remorse and turns away from the older boy apologetically.

Something uncomfortable gnaws at Jihoon's stomach. He thinks maybe _he's_ the one that fucked up.

"Well _shit_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that last chapter will be up soon i swear on my life please don't kill me.


End file.
